


The Lingering Scent of Hope

by forestgreen



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Established Relationship, M/M, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Verse, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestgreen/pseuds/forestgreen
Summary: Slade freezes and has to steady himself against the wall. There's a second heartbeat coming from the bed, a little echo that's so small he almost missed it. But now it's all Slade can hear, roaring like a thunder.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 78
Kudos: 606
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	The Lingering Scent of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 - Sladerobin Week 2020: **“What do you want from me?”** | ~~Dragons~~ | **Pregnancy**
> 
> Many thanks to the fantastic Akelios for the beta! All remaining mistakes are mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slade's phone beeps letting him know that Jason just broke into his house. Technically, it's not breaking in, since Slade gave him the code for the alarm and a set of keys, but it's not a scheduled visit either. That can't be good.

Jason always contacts him before coming over, and the few times when the two of them had to interact on a professional level, Jason chose neutral territory. Which makes this neither business nor pleasure then.

Slade checks his messages to make sure he didn't miss a call or some other kind of heads-up, but there's nothing. The last message from Jason is almost two months old. Slade's cock stirs a bit rereading it. The response is almost Pavlovian by now. There are fourteen messages worded the exact same way, sent every ten weeks, always on a Sunday, like clockwork. _Are you free next week?_ followed by Slade's even shorter answer, _Yes_. It's two weeks too early for Jason to be coming over.

 _Did you just break into my house?_ he texts Jason.

 _I didn't break in. I have keys,_ Jason texts backs immediately.

 _Are you dying?_ Slade needs three more days to finish his current job, and then another before he can head back. Jason better not be dying. 

_No_

_Are the Bats after you?_ Slade loves to fuck any Bat-brats who ask—they're all gorgeous and kinky, and Slade has always been a versatile alpha—but he doesn't want to be dragged into their mess.

_No_

He isn't going to ask Jason to explain himself. If the kid needs something, he'll have to ask. _I still need 36h to finish here._ He can halve the time if he changes his plans. Less elegant and a bit more risky, but doable. _Can it wait that long?_

He sure hopes so. Jason already cost him two million, even if the kid doesn't know it. Slade refused a very lucrative job because it coincided with Jason's last heat. He didn't do it for Jason, of course. Given the choice between a week spent knot-deep into Jason's dripping cunt or crawling through some jungle in Central America to eliminate a two-bit drug dealer for a Mexican cartel, it was hardly a choice at all. It wasn't as if he needed the money anyway.

However, there's a difference between refusing to take a job because of a timing conflict with Jason's heat, and interrupting an ongoing contract he already accepted. If the kid isn't dying the answer better be yes.

He frowns at the 'Jason is typing…' little tag on his phone, waiting for the reply. Tension rises as the waiting stretches. Is he writing a fucking novel? What's taking so long? The 'Jason is typing…' tag disappears, only to reappear again a couple of seconds later. Finally, a short _Yes_ pops up.

A lie if Slade ever read one. It can't take that long to type a 'Yes', which means he was writing something else and then changed his mind. Slade fights back the desire to type, 'Are you sure?'

The kid is twenty-five and surprisingly head-strong for an omega. You can say what you want about Batman, but all his brats are competent and resourceful regardless of designation. If Jason truly needs Slade, he'll have to alpha up and say it. Slade is not going to prod him into coming clean. The 'Yes' suits him fine.

 _Good_ , he sends back and puts the phone away. 

So much for a good night's sleep before moving on to the next part of his plan. Good thing he can do without sleep for 72 hours without losing faculties. He's going to need it.

Damned Bats, always screwing up his plans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slade manages to finish up in 24 hours, which is twelve less than than he'd been expecting and then drives non-stop all the way back to Kentucky. He doesn't steal a plane. It'd save him another four hours but it'd be too easy to track. Whatever Jason's problem is will have to wait.

There's a traffic jam on the interstate that makes Slade want to get out of his car and start shooting. He stays calm. He checks his phone again. There are no new messages from Jason since Slade last checked two minutes ago. Of course not. His telephone would beep to tell him if there had been an incoming message, but he can't help checking anyway.

The last message continues to be that short 'Yes'. He switches apps to the webcams that track his place. Jason is still sleeping. He doesn't seem injured. Slade had checked when Jason was showering, just to make sure. No visible injuries. But something is definitely wrong. The kid has done nothing but sleep since his break-in.

He even fell asleep reading a book on the couch. Jason never falls asleep when he's reading. Giving the kid a book is a sure way to get him to stay awake longer than he should. Slade has seen him ignore heat symptoms that would have other omegas whine and beg for an alpha cock because, _'I just need to finish this chapter real quick. Give me another sec.'_

Right now he's asleep on Slade's side of the bed, bundled beneath the sheets and curled on his side. Slade can only see some of that curly dark hair and a little bit of the white tuft peek from beneath the top of the sheets.

He hopes that the idiots who caused the accident jamming the interstate are fucking dead. Though that would make the traffic jam even worse. Not dead then, but suffering. Maybe he should have taken the plane and damned the risks. No. He shouldn't. Jason can wait. According to the GPS he'll arrive home in two more hours. That's still six hours under the 36 he told Jason he needed.

And the kid is not injured. Not seriously. He's fine. Maybe he's just sick? Or he just needs to lay low for a bit? Not that Jason has ever come to Slade when he needs to disappear, but Slade kind of likes it that he chose to this time. If that is what this is about anyway. Two more hours and he'll know for sure.

He eyes the bundle beneath the sheets once more before dismissing the app and closing his phone. The red Corvette in front of his car has yet to move. He really should have stolen that small plane he'd been eying. Damned Bats.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house smells of omega. Jason's musky sweet scent hangs in the air, an ubiquitous smell that clings to everything. The kid hasn't aired the house since he arrived. Slade likes it. The house always smells of Jason these days, his heat scent lingering for weeks and never quite fading completely.

It doesn't smell of heat now though, just of omega. None of the pheromones that would have Slade's cock stirring with the desire to fuck and rut. It smells almost like a den. Homey and comfortable. It eases a need inside Slade he wasn't even aware he had. When was the last time he had a proper den?

Back when he and Addy were still going strong, before Grant was born and Adeline and him started fighting over every little thing, their house souring with the bitter smell of Adeline's pervasive anger and constant disappointment. Nothing Slade did made it fade, and it became easier to find excuses to leave. Jobs. Missions. Anything. It only made it worse, of course, and every time he came back her scent was worse, making it obvious that Slade was no longer welcome. So he stayed gone longer and longer, until he stopped coming back altogether.

Slade has fucked plenty of omegas since he and Adeline broke up, plenty of alphas, too. Even some betas, though he doesn't like how muted their scent is. He much prefers the strong pheromones that fill the air when omegas and alphas are aroused beyond reason. He likes playing their bodies until they open up to him and submit. He loves doing it to alphas, making them spread up and beg for a knot despite how wrong it is, but he loves doing it to omegas just as much. That heady scent of slick and need, the way it clouds Slade's senses and erases his inhibitions like even the finest of single malts no longer can't.

Yeah, he's glad that there's still one chemical high his enhancements allow him to have. And Jason, Jason tastes better than a 60 year-old Macallan. Convincing the kid to come to his house for his heats instead of using those impersonal safehouses he settled for at the beginning was a brilliant move on Slade's part.

He walks into the bedroom and takes in the sight. Jason is still asleep, exactly as he was the last time Slade checked through the cameras. He hasn't moved much. The smell of him hits Slade like a punch. It's so strong here, so heady. The cameras didn't prepare him for that. Slade wants to crawl into bed with him and cover Jason with his body, scent him until he smells like Slade, too. He's pleased to notice that even though this isn't one of Jason's heat-visits, he still complied with the one rule Slade put in place when this started: no scent blockers allowed when they are together.

He listens to Jason's breathing, his heartbeat. Steady and slow with sleep. He didn't even stir when Slade came in, so much trust there. And then Slade freezes and has to steady himself against the wall. There's a second heartbeat coming from the bed, a little echo that's so small he almost missed it. But now it's all Slade can hear, roaring like a thunder, his senses zeroing in on the sound. It's fast. So very, very fast. Like a flutter of bird wings. A sharp contrast to Jason's own steady, almost lazy rhythm. He knows that sound. He's heard it before.

Jason is pregnant.

Jason is pregnant.

How is that possible? His mind is going a mile a minute, analyzing possibilities. His first instinct is to say that the child isn't his, but… that's impossible. Jason has been sharing all his heats with Slade for the past four years. The fetus isn't that old. He saw Jason in the shower. He's not showing yet. He can only be… Eight weeks. Jason's heat was eight weeks ago. He certainly hadn’t been pregnant then. The baby's heartbeat is fast, fast, fast. It's all Slade can listen to.

Jason stayed with Slade during the whole week his heat lasted plus the two extra days Slade insisted on, because it had been such a bad one.

How? How did it happen? Dr. Villain spent months experimenting on him until they came up with the right combination of hormonal implants and suppressants to keep Slade's sperm production close to zero. Keeping up with the pill regime and changing the implants every quarter is a pain, but totally worth it. Slade's been shooting blanks for decades. Jason shouldn't be pregnant. It's not possible. Except that there's a small heartbeat coming from the bed and Jason's scent smells of den and home and maybe even a little bit of Slade, now that he knows what to look for, even though Slade has never claimed him.

He stays there, glad for the wall supporting him. He doesn't think he could move even if he wanted to. Not even if his life depended on it. Only if someone were to threaten Jason and their pup. He'd move then. He'd kill them. He'd rip them apart and end them before they could so much as finish the thought.

Slade has to improve the security of the house. He needs to… His mind starts going over all the things he needs to do to secure their den. Task after task slotting into place in an ever growing to do list. It's easier to focus on the things that need to happen. Practical things he needs to do. Easier to think of that than to listen to the pup's heartbeat. 

He can't stop listening to it. 

Jason is pregnant. He's pregnant with Slade's baby.

Slade is going to be a father.

A father. 

Again.

Slade is going to be a father.

He hadn't known he wanted to be a father again.

But he can't stop thinking about it now. A tiny pup, closing its little fist around Slade's finger, gurgling and smiling at him. Kicking with its little legs. Laughing with joy when Slade throws it into the air and catches it. Maybe it'll be an omega this time. He already had three alpha children and Slade wants an omega. A little plucky omega with the temper of a firecracker just like Jason. An omega to keep Slade on his feet.

Slade is going to be a father. He can do it right this time. He _will_ do it right this time.

Maybe Jason will let him pick the name? Adeline didn't, claiming that if she was the one carrying the pup for nine months then she got to pick the name. Not that there was anything wrong with Grant or Joey. Fine, strong names. But Slade would have liked to… No, of course Jason will pick the name. He's going to do most of the work. Slade just needs to make sure that the den is safe, that no one can threaten his omega. He needs to…. 

His eyes travel to the bed. Jason's neck isn't visible. Only his hair is. But Slade knows his neck is bare. Unclaimed. The only mark is an ugly scar cutting through Wayne's pack mark. Jason doesn't talk about it and when Slade asked how he got it, his scent soured with pain. Slade never asked again.

But the place where a mate's claim should go is still untouched. Slade hadn't offered. Jason hadn't asked. But Slade will offer now. Of course he will. And Jason will accept. Claimed omegas have an easier time dealing with pregnancy. There are hormones they need during gestation that only an alpha can provide. Most pregnancies by unclaimed omegas end up in miscarriages. It's a miracle his pup has made it to eight weeks at all. Although, maybe not so much of a miracle. Some of Slade's enhancement probably bred through like they did with Rose. Her mother had been unclaimed and she still managed to carry to term thanks to that.

Slade won't allow Jason to suffer like that. It had been different with Rose. Slade hadn't even known her mother was pregnant, and at the time he and Adeline were still mated. Slade has no mate now. Of course he will offer. He isn't going to risk his mate and pup like that. And Jason, Jason will be the perfect mate for Slade. Strong and capable. As able to hold his own in a fight as Addy was back then. Better even. An independent, strong omega, able to protect the pack.

The alpha in him takes pride in that, just like he takes pride in the idea of his pack growing again.

He's going to be a father. He's going to be a father.

He goes to the bed and sits on the edge next to Jason. The scent of him is even stronger there. Impossible to ignore. Slade leans closer, breathing it in, savoring it. Trying to discern what's Jason and what's the pup's. Of course it's too early for the pup to have its own scent yet, but the pregnancy, incipient though it is, has changed how Jason smells already. If his scent was addictive before there are no words to describe it now. Slade wants to…. He tugs the bed sheets down, ignores Jason's unhappy mumbles and leans closer.

Jason's left scent gland is a bit swollen. The right one is probably swollen, too, for all that Slade can't see it. An early sign of pregnancy. The omega producing that enticing scent that makes the alpha want to stay close and protect. Slade doesn't even mind that it's just biology and centuries of evolution manipulating his emotions and instincts. He's going to protect his omega and their unborn pup anyway. What does it matter if some hormones make him want to do it even more?

He licks the scent gland and Jason moans, baring his neck, offering himself to his alpha. Jason's eyes flutter open and there's a confused look on his face. He looks tired. Exhausted. The pregnancy, of course. Slade's going to tell their pup that it was the only thing that could make their mother stop reading even before it was born. He smiles against Jason's neck imagining it.

"Slade?" Jason's still so sleepy, content, trusting. His scent sweetens with his happiness. He's glad that Slade's home. "You're back early."

He should have stolen that plane. "I managed to wrap it up faster than I thought." He wishes Jason had told him it couldn't wait. He wishes Jason had told him he was pregnant. But of course Jason didn't want to tell him over the phone or via message. This is the kind of news an omega tells his alpha in person. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. A bit tired. We need to talk." He pushes himself up and Slade helps him, picking up the pillows and prodding them into place behind Jason's back.

"Yeah, we do," Slade agrees, and leans closer. He kisses Jason, soft at first and then more demanding. That scent of his. Slade can't get enough. The baby's heartbeat is so fast. Slade loves it. His hand travels to Jason's belly. He can't feel the pup yet. It's too early even for Slade's enhanced senses, but soon. So soon.

"You know," Jason says, breaking the kiss. It's not a question.

"Yeah, I could hear the pup's heartbeat the moment I entered," Slade tells him.

"You can hear the heartbeat?" Jason's face crumbles a bit and his scent sours with sadness. His hand goes to Slade's and presses on top of it, as if trying to feel the pup, too.

"It's strong. Healthy," he reassures Jason. It must be hard for him not to be able to feel or hear the pup he's carrying yet while Slade already can. It had been for Addy, when she'd been pregnant with Joey. Another thing for her to be bitter and angry about.

Jason looks up at him, taken aback. "You want it?" He seems surprised.

Of course he wants it. It's his child. "It's our pup, Jay." Jason is particular about nicknames and will only tolerate them when he's knotted and so full with alpha come and pheromones that he can't think of anything but pleasing his alpha. Any other time he'll snarl back and demand Slade call him Jason. But Slade thinks the occasion deserves it. "Of course I want it." God, he must have been worrying about it since he found out. Slade has never indicated he wanted this thing they have to be more than a convenient heat-with-perks arrangement.

"Oh, fuck. That's not good." Jason pushes Slade's hand away and moves to stand up.

"What do you mean not good?" Slade lets him go, too surprised by Jason's reaction. He expected Jason to be pleased, but now he just smells worried. He hadn't smelled worried before.

"I thought you'd help, that's all. I didn't want to do it alone. But when has my life ever been easy?" Jason rubs his face and stands up. He's wearing one of Slade's shirts. He must have gotten it from the hamper. It reeks of Slade. 

"Of course I'll help," Slade reassures him. "I'll claim you and then we—"

"Not to have the pup, Slade. To get rid of it," Jason snaps. "Damn it! You promised me you couldn't get me pregnant! You promised me, you fucking liar." 

"I don't know how it happened, all right?" Slade stands up, too, unable to sit still. "We've been together for four years and this never happened before." What the hell? Jason wants to abort their pup.

"We're not together, Slade," Jason snarls. "We fuck. When I have a heat. Or when you are in Gotham and need access to one of my safehouses for some job or other. Because you get off on sticking your knot where you know Batman doesn't want it. We're _not_ together."

"What the—I'm not with you because of Batman," Slade snaps. "I could care less about that idiot."

"So, what, is it about Dick then? You get off on knotting his brother like you knot him. And don't fucking deny it! I know you and Dick fuck. I don't care. Dick likes fellow alphas, big deal."

"I haven't fucked Richard since he found out you and I were a thing," Slade scoffs. "He told me he couldn't stomach the idea of me fucking his brother and made me choose. I chose you."

Jason's eyes widen in surprise. Dick hadn’t told him? Of course he hadn’t. Damned Bats. 

"And yes, I do fuck around," Slade admits, though it has become less and less frequent of late. "But you never demanded exclusivity so you don't get to be pissy about it now." Slade hasn't even touched another omega in over two years. They all smell wrong anyway. Even alphas don’t manage to hold his interest for long. Whenever he feels the itch to fuck these days, he takes a job close enough to Gotham that he has an excuse to drop in by Jason's place unannounced. 

"I don't want exclusivity. I want nothing!" Jason snaps. He smells of anger but underneath that there's hurt, too. "I want nothing," he repeats and he sounds broken. Sad. He smells sad. Slade hates it.

"You really don't want our pup?" Slade can't get his head around that. He's seen Jason with kids. "You love children." Jason is so good with them. It never even occurred to Slade that Jason might not want some of his own.

Jason looks away. "I want children, but not… not with you."

Oh.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you…" Jason trails off. "You're a great alpha, but…" He trails off again.

"But what? Don't stop now," Slade hisses. Jason doesn't think him a worthy mate? That shouldn't hurt as much as it does. Why does it hurt? It's not as if Slade is interested in mating Jason. He's just offering because of the pup and because—Oh, no. No. No. _No!_ When did that happen? When did Slade start to want to mate Jason, too? How come he didn't realize it before?

Jason shakes his head, and looks around the room as if searching for something. "It's best if I go." His clothes then.

No way. "No." Slade moves to block the exit, but stays far away enough that Jason shouldn't feel cornered. He knows better than to corner a pregnant omega. "Tell me. Why not with me?" 

"Look, it never even occurred to me you might want to have more children. If I'd known, I never would have come here. I'd have found another way to—"

"To abort it, without even telling me about it." That hurts even worse. To never have known that there was a chance he could have had this child. To never have known how much he wanted it. Slade hadn't known how much he wanted it. Not just a child. A child with _Jason_. "Why? Just tell me why? Have I treated you so poorly? Is it exclusivity you want? I can give you that." He gave it to Addy, and if things with them hadn't gone to hell like they did, he would have continued to give it to her.

"Slade, you're a great alpha, a fantastic mercenary, the best lay I've ever had. I've written poetry about the wonders of your knot."

"You have?" Slade snorts despite how serious the conversation is.

Jason blushes crimson red. "I was very, very drunk and I missed your knot, don't let it get to your head. It was terrible poetry anyway."

Slade doubts it. He's read some of Jason's poems. "But…," Slade prompts. "Come on, just lay it on me."

"You're not going to like it," Jason warns.

"I'm not liking it already. Just tell me."

"You're a terrible father," Jason says in a small voice. "You are…" He stops and sits on the bed. He puts a hand on his belly, where their child is. Its tiny heartbeat so strong. "I grew up with a shitty father. And then I met Bruce and thought I'd finally lucked out. Except he ended up being another shitty father, too. In a different way. I… This world is fucked-up enough. I'm not bringing a pup into it so that he can grow up like I did, wondering why he isn't good enough. Unloved and unwanted."

"My children aren't unloved and unwanted," Slade seethes.

"You ever tell them that?" Jason says. "Because I'm friends with Rose and Joey. They both think you don't love them. Well, Rose thinks that. Joey knows you love him, he's just convinced he's the biggest disappointment you ever had. He thinks you'd rather he had died instead of Grant. And I never knew Grant, but I'm willing to bet good money that he died thinking he was a disappointment, too. I'm not letting you do that to another kid. Certainly not to mine. I'd rather they aren't born at all."

Slade has been sucker-punched before. He's been cut and shot and hurt. He's been experimented on, imprisoned, tortured. There have only been two times something has hurt as much as Jason's words hurt: Seeing Joey covered in blood with his throat slit, thinking his heartbeat was going to give out any moment, and holding Grant's corpse in his arms, aware that he'd been too late to save him.

There's a part of him, dark and twisted, that's thinking about how easy it would be to pin Jason to the bed and claim him. Jason's a good fighter but he's not a match for Slade. Slade could force the mating bite on him and then Jason would be his in the eyes of the law. He smells like Slade already. No one would care if Jason was willing or not. Mated is mated. Jason couldn't abort their child then. A claimed omega would need his alpha's consent for such an invasive procedure. Slade could have Jason and their child and there's little Jason could do to stop him.

Instead, he goes to his knees in front of Jason and captures Jason's hands in his. "I don't want to do that to another child either. I—I've been trying to be better. Surely Joey and Rose have told you that?" They have to know Slade's been trying. "What do you want from me? What do I have to do to prove to you that I've changed, that I want to change. Jason, please, I want you. I want the baby. Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. Anything you want. Tell me. There has to be _something_."

"I just want you to love it," Jason tells him and his voice breaks. Jason touches his forehead to Slade's. "I want you to love it."

"I already do."

"Not the child you want to have, Slade," Jason says, "Not whatever perfect warrior you dream your child ought to be, but the child that is born. I want you to love them even if they decide that they want to be a hero who will never kill, or if they choose to be a plain vanilla civilian who wants nothing to do with the lives you and I chose for ourselves.

"I want you to love them whether they are an alpha, or a beta, or an omega. I want you to love them for who they are, not for who you want them to be," Jason whispers to him. "I want them to be your mission, your contract, your job. I want you to put as much effort into raising them right as you put into the contracts you take. And when it goes wrong, because it will, I want you not to give up and run, but to stay and push through and try again, like you would if it was a tricky job that's refusing to go the way you want."

He takes Slade's face in his hands and meets his eye. "I want you to love them more than you love being Deathstroke, more than your pride and your reputation. I want you to love them so much that it makes you brave enough to look them in the eye and _tell them_. I want them to _know it_. And if one day something goes wrong and our enemies capture them and kill them—"

"That's not going to happen! I won't let it. Never again," Slade interrupts, clasping Jason's hands tighter. _Never again_.

"You don't know that," Jason says softly. "You can't promise that. I'm not so cruel as to ask for things that are beyond your control." 

"Jason, I swear—"

"Slade," Jason stops him. "You _can't_ promise that. We can only try your best. That's enough. But Slade, if they die, I want them to die knowing that they were loved, that they were good enough, that they will be missed. I want them to die without having ever doubted it. 

"And Slade, if they do die, if someone kills them and we are too late to save them," Jason's scent spikes with rage and blood-thirst, "I want you to take my hand and help me raze the world to ashes. We will make everyone pay. And if our child comes back from death, we will love whatever parts of them return and we will be glad that we have even that much. And we will love them so much, that we'd rather have them broken and alive than not at all. _That_ you can promise."

"God, Jason," Slade says, and rises up. He pushes Jason back onto the bed and kisses him. "I swear it. I swear it." He's drunk with the scent of Jason. It tastes of rage and anger, demanding and unyielding. An omega who knows what he wants and won't settle for less. A worthy mate. Their child will be so strong. Of course Slade will love them. Of course he will. Whatever Jason wants. Anything. "I'll raze the world with you if I have to. But nothing will happen, I won't let it. I'm not losing another child. They are ours. And they will be perfect. I'll love them. They will be loved, Jason, I swear it to you. Be my mate, Jason. Raise them with me. Be mine, too."

"Slade." Jason pushes Slade's head back. "You have to mean it. If I do this, and you betray me, I'll kill you. I won't be my mother. I won't stand by passively, crying in a corner while you hurt the child I gave you. If you hurt them, I will end you where you stand. It'll be the last thing you ever do. So think about it. I have no qualms with terminating an unwanted pregnancy, but if I bring a child into this world there are no take backs. You commit, you love them, you fucking alpha up and be the father _they_ deserve, or I fucking end you. Adeline took your eye, but I'll take your head if I have to. You hurt them, and I'll kill you."

It's a promise that Slade knows to take seriously. God, but Slade loves him, his blood-thirsty omega who will rather kill Slade than let him fail his pack. Jason is perfect. Slade had known it for a while now. He just didn't want to admit it to himself.

"Yes, Jason, yes. If I ever hurt them, I’ll let you kill me."

"There’ll be no fucking _letting me_ , old man," Jason snarls, his scent swirling with anger and god, Slade can’t get enough of it. "You get no say in it. I'll do it and you won't see me coming. And I won't stop being Red Hood. I won't be the stay at home omega that gives up all ambitions and dreams the moment the child is born so that the alpha can go on as if nothing changed. We share the work. We raise the kid together. We love them together. We protect them together. You'll have to cut back on the whole Deathstroke thing just like I will on the Red Hood, but we both cut back. And the child comes first. They always come first. You have to promise me that."

"I promise."

Jason holds his head and looks him the eye, green eyes shining with that eerie inner light that makes him seem otherworldly. Whatever remnants the Pit left behind. He gets like that sometimes at the peak of his heat or when his emotions overwhelm him. Slade stares back, steadily, unflinchingly, letting himself be judged, trying to convey how much he means it, how serious he is.

The green light fades slightly and Jason blinks. His grip on Slade's face eases and his scent, oh god, his scent turns sweet and heady and _happy_. He smells uncertain still, as if he can’t quite let himself trust Slade's word.

Slade needs to destroy those last doubts. "I promise, Jason. You have my word. As a Wilson. As Deathstroke. I swear it on my life. On the lives of my children. On the life of _our pup_. I will not fail you, omega. Allow yourself to have this. Allow me to have this. Give me another chance to do it right. I won’t waste it, Jason. I swear it to you on my honor. I will not waste it."

"You fucking better not be lying, you fucking lying asshole," Jason gripes, and Slade laughs and kisses him. That's a yes. That's Jason's contrary speech for 'yes.' After four years Slade's an expert in translating Jason to English. They are going to have a pup. Slade's going to be a _father_.

"I'm not, I'm not. My sweet omega, you're so perfect." He kisses Jason again, climbing on top of him. He ruts against Jason's belly, where their child is growing, desperate with the desire to claim Jason. To make this omega finally his for good. "Everything you want. Anything you want. I swear it." He kisses him again, and this time Jason kisses him back, as desperate as Slade. God, that smell of his. It's driving Slade crazy.

 _I want you to love them so much that it makes you brave enough to look them in the eye and tell them_.

Slade breaks the kiss and retreats only enough to be able to look at Jason, only enough to say the words he's been fighting against for months now, the words he's been too much of a coward to even acknowledge he wanted to say. "Jason, I.... I—Jason."

Jason snorts and then chuckles. "You're going to break something, old man."

"Stop mocking me, I'm trying to tell you something," Slade grouses.

Jason raises his head and kisses Slade's lips shut. "You don't have to tell _me_. I'm used to going without. But Slade, those better be the first words you tell our pup when I put them in your arms. You have a couple of months to get it right. Train in front of a mirror or something. If you can't say it by then, I'm taking the pup with me and you're never seeing either of us again. This isn't something I'm willing to compromise on."

"You shouldn't have to go without, Jason," Slade says. "You shouldn't. Because I… I love you."

Jason's heart skips a beat. His eyes widen in surprise and his scent, oh, god, his scent. It spikes and sweetens and deepens somehow and twists into something that has Slade panting with desire. He's never scented anything so fantastic, so unique, so _perfect_. Slade wants Jason with him forever. He wants that scent, the omega it belongs to. He wants Jason's anger, his happiness, and his moodiness. His demands. He wants Jason's clever mind and his ruthlessness and his softness, too. He wants Jason to know that he's loved. He wants Jason to know that he's wanted.

"I'm in love with you," Slade says, because it's so easy to say it now. Why had he been so afraid before? Oh, there it is again; that smell, stronger than before. Slade kisses Jason’s neck and licks at the gland there, needing more of that scent. "I'm in love with you, Jason."

Jason whimpers and keens and arches, pressing into Slade's mouth and his gland starts _dripping_ mating hormones. Slade laps it clean and more comes out. The heady scent has Slade repeating, "I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you," like a mantra while he sucks and licks the thick, viscous beads dribbling down Jason's neck.

Slade has never said it before, not even to Addy. He said 'I love you' to her and meant it, but 'I'm in love with you'? Never. He can't stop saying it now. It's as if a dam has broken. Jason's smell is everywhere, clouding his senses, calling to him. His own body is starting to secrete mating hormones in response. His mouth watering with them. Omega's and alpha's hormones mixing together, preparing both of them for the mating.

"I'm in love with you, Jason." His voice falls into the deep rumble of an alpha who wants to impress and mate an omega. "I want to mate you. I want to breed you. I want to raise pups together with you. I want to own you. I want to _claim_ you."

"Slade, please," Jason keens. "Please. Yes. Yes, alpha." He's dripping, his scent gland swollen, thick beads running down his neck like honey. Sweet and addicting and Slade's. Jason's body producing them for him. Just for him. An omega telling his alpha that he's ready. That he wants to be owned. That he wants to be claimed. 

He grazes his teeth against Jason's neck, over that swollen, sensitive gland.

Jason gasps. "Alpha, please. Make me yours."

"I want to hear it, too, Jason." He realizes that it's true. Those aren’t just empty words. Slade wants Jason to say it.

"Alpha, Slade, I'm in love with you, too. Please, alpha, please claim me."

Slade bites down on the gland and Jason screams and comes. The smell of blood and omega slick, of Jason's intoxicating scent fills Slade's nostrils. He swallows the heady cocktail of Jason's omega blood mixed with the mating hormones both of them are pouring out. He can't get enough of it. He bites deeper, rutting against Jason. Millennia-old instincts telling him to tear the skin and to push his own spit into his omega's bloodstream, to mark him as his. To make him _pack_.

His teeth dig deeper until he finds the center of that hidden gland. He clamps down on it and it bursts, releasing a gush of that viscous honey liquid directly into Slade's mouth. He swallows it and sucks, pressing down harder and more mating hormones gush out of Jason into Slade. He's slobbering all over the wound, pouring his own alpha hormones into Jason's blood, claiming him.

He fumbles with one hand until he finds Jason's sweatpants and tears at them, pushing them aside enough to free one of Jason's legs and push it up against Jason's chest. Jason's small omega cock is hard and leaking but Slade ignores it, eyes zeroing on the lips of Jason's cunt, red and swollen and gleaming with slick. He frees his cock, too desperate to even bother taking off his trousers, and thumbs Jason's sopping cunt open. He pushes in in one big steady stroke until he bottoms out.

Jason whimpers and moans, pushing against Slade with his hands even as his hips arch up to meet him. He's so fucking tight. Four years knotting him whenever Slade can get his hands on Jason and he's still so damned tight. 

"Look at you, Jay. Such a sweet omega. I'm gonna fill you with my seed until you can taste it in the back of your throat. You're gonna spend the rest of your life with your tits leaking milk and a swollen belly. I'm gonna give you so many pups. And I'm gonna love them all. I'll be such a good alpha, such a good father. I'll protect them, Jay. Nothing will happen to them. Nothing will happen to you. My sweet omega. I love you so much. And I will love them, every single pup you give me, I will love them all as you want me to love them, as they deserve to be loved. And if I don't, Jay, if I fail you, you kill me. Take my sword and ram it through my heart and rip it out of my chest. I won't deserve any better."

"Alpha," Jason arches up and clenches around him. Slade pushes deeper, his knot is already forming, so fast that it'd be embarrassing under any other circumstances, but Jason smells of pack, of mate. He smells like _Slade's._ Slade missed this. It's been so long since he's had a mate. His knot catches against Jason's cunt and he thrusts deeper before he pulls out again. Jason's walls clench tight around him, trying to keep him inside, as if his cunt can't bear the idea of being empty even for the seconds it takes for Slade to shove. Back. In.

He rams into Jason, forcing him to take the forming knot. Jason whines and digs his fingernails into Slade's back trying to tear through his clothes. He can't, Slade's jacket stopping him, but Slade gets the message. He pulls out and rams back in, faster, deeper, harder. He takes hold of Jason's hips and presses his leg further up, creating space to get that much deeper. It takes effort to pop his knot back in, but Jason's dripping cunt opens for him before it clamps down hard, locking Slade in place.

Slade tries to pull back again and can't. Jason's walls squeeze around Slade's cock, his knot, contracting around him like a vice, keeping him in place, trapped, owned too. An omega capturing an alpha the way only they can. All Slade can hear is the squelching sound of Jason's slick as Slade rams that half-inch he still can move deeper into his mate.

Jason's broken moans and pants, the half-keened "Alpha" as he comes undone under Slade's knot, are pushing Slade closer and closer towards that final release. Jason's heart is fast now, so fast, but not fast enough to match their pup's, growing inside of Jason's womb, so deep into Slade's mate that even Slade's cock can't reach it. But Slade put it there. That's Slade's pup, growing inside Jason, changing him, claiming him, too.

He bites harder before he lets go, unable to withstand the waves of pleasure crashing through him any longer. He floods Jason with his come, knot keeping his seed in place as if he could breed Jason a second time, put another pup in him. Jason's still gushing mating hormones into Slade's mouth and it's the sweetest most addicting nectar Slade's ever had. He'd forgotten how good this is, this sense of completeness, of being one with another. Mate. Family. _Pack_.

He's not letting Jason go. Never. Jason is his.

Slade only lets go of Jason's neck after the rush of the mating starts to fade. They are still knotted, joined as only alpha and omega can be. Slade laps at the blood on Jason's neck until the little dribbles start to taper off, the wound clotting faster, aided by the enzymes in Slade’s saliva.

"Should have done this months ago, Jay," he admits. "Wanted to."

"Hmm," Jason sighs and shifts underneath him, finding a more comfortable position that will allow him to bear Slade's weight—the weight of his alpha—for the time it'll take Slade's knot to recede. His eyes drift shut and he purrs. It'll take him another couple of minutes to be coherent enough to talk.

Slade presses his weight on top of Jason, covering his mate, protecting him. This is one of the few times in which Jason allows himself to relax completely, instincts overriding the over-vigilance their lifestyles force upon him.

Slade loves it, too. The indulgent laziness and contentment that follows a good knotting. Moving seems like an impossibility. He'd stay on top of Jason forever if he could. It's why a well-protected den is so important.

"Bruce is going to be so pissed," Jason says when he finally speaks a while later.

Slade hides his grin in the crook of Jason's neck. "You're killing the mood, Jay. Do we really have to talk about Wayne?"

"Don't front with me, Slade. You fucking love riling Bruce up." 

"I don't know where you got this idea that I'm with you to piss Batman off," Slade protests. His grin shifts into a smile. "But I won't deny it's a nice side benefit. For you, too, Jay. Isn't that why you first came to me?"

"Maybe," Jason admits reluctantly, but he smells happy. So happy.

"So…," Slade says, mouthing at Jason's ear, "when are you going to show me that poem you wrote about my knot?" He shifts a bit, pressing said knot into Jason. As an enticement.

"I can't believe I told you that," Jason groans, smelling embarrassed. Slade can feel the way his cheeks warm with blood. Gorgeous. "And never. I deleted it."

He's lying, heart skipping a couple of beats to give him away. "You'll have to write another one then," Slade says. "I want to read it."

"No. Shut up. I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Fuck, Bruce it's really gonna kill me this time," Jason says.

"If he touches you, it'll be the last thing he ever does," Slade promises, and means it. Though Slade doubts Wayne will dare. He's going to be too far gone on the idea of being a grandad to care about who the sire is. If anything, Slade's going to have a hard time keeping Wayne's greedy hands away from his pup. "Let's not talk about him for now."

"All right," Jason agrees readily, and shifts a bit.

Slade's knot is starting to recede, but he presses closer, unwilling to be parted from his mate yet. Just a little bit longer. "What do you want to name the pup?"

"I—I haven't really thought about names yet. I wasn't—There was no point in hoping and—"

"But it's all right to think about it now. To hope," Slade tells him. He wants Jason to think of names. Once he's named the pup there will be no going back for him. Slade knows it.

"Any ideas?" Jason asks.

"You—" Slade stops, breathless. He moves up a bit, until he's looking into Jason's green eyes. "You're the omega. You’ll be carrying them. You get to name them."

"Don't be an idiot," Jason huffs. He holds Slade's face with his hands and presses a chaste kiss to Slade's lips. "They are _ours_. We do it together. All of it."

Slade didn't know it was possible to love someone so much, to fall in love again and again and again. But here he is. He kisses Jason, as deep as he can, long and slow. "Together," he whispers, when they finally break apart.

"Together," Jason agrees.

And Slade dares to hope, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! ❤️


End file.
